027 VOICE LIST ELEVEN

[deadliestviper]

[When Beatrix speaks her voice is hesitant, perhaps a little disturbed, for such a brief and pleasant message. Those who are aware both of her and the current date may be able to guess why.]
To whoever left them outside my door, thanks for the flowers.

[Private to Ben]
My warden informed me about your situation. Check in. [She knows he'll respond better to that than to an "I'm so sorry, are you okay?"]

[Private to Kon]
...Hey.

[Private to Iris]
I need you to let me into the pub.

Comments

[deadliestviper]

Looms? Like the things you weave yarn on? What the hell is a remembrance tank?

[Beatrix just twists her mouth into a frown, scoffing as she does.] If you had a flood baby with someone on board you barely knew, would you talk to them much?

[routemistress]

Aye, only you weave your DNA. Remembrance tanks are designed for building someone whose existence 'as 'appened already, but you can use 'em to make someone new, I've seen it done.

[She raises an eyebrow at the question.]

I ever tell you Rorschach were me first flood baby? I were 'is mum in the Wonderland breach. Okay, 'e were a warthog, but that's Wonderland for you. 'E's still my boy.

[deadliestviper]

So in short, you make new babies on looms and you make clones in remembrance tanks.

[In response Bea shakes her head, laughing a little. She doesn't even make a crack about the short, smelly gruff guy.] I'm not talking about keeping a child from a port. I'm talking about keeping a father from a port.

[routemistress]

Oh, they're not clones; more like a new edition. There's no degradation, just ...well, never mind.

[Yeah, no cracks. Iris loves her smelly not-exactly-son.]

Some version of you and some version of 'im loved each other; that's not nothing. I've noticed none of us change that much.

[She looks down into her drink again.]

...all right, I've got a tiny bit of an ulterior motive there; Narvin's worried on account of 'e doesn't trust anyone and 'asn't got any friends. Now, I'm not matchmaking [yes, Iris, you are] - but you already know why 'e's worth makin' a friend of.

[deadliestviper]

Did I say there was any degradation in clones?

Cared about. That's a big leap from loving. [What the fuck, Iris.]

I don't know if I can make friends with him right now, Iris. It's too [depressing emotionally charged] weird.

[routemistress]

No. But there usually is, you know.

[Iris tilts her head, eyes glinting with curious interest.]

That's a very fine distinction, Bea my love, but I s'pose it's yours to make. I'm not suggesting you marry the bloke, but do you know anyone that couldn't use more friends?

[deadliestviper]

There might be. Kon's the first example of one I've run across.

Of course I know people who could use more friends. I just don't see why it's up to me.

[routemistress]

Depends 'ow many copies get run off, usually.

It's not, love. You're just the one I've got 'ere. This is why I love this boat, you know. All these paths not taken. It's 'ard work finding 'em off your own bat, even with a timeship and a feasibility generator - all right, I'm fairly convinced the Admiral does it by accident, but exploration's always been me biggest passion. I couldn't stick 'ere if we didn't get to do so much of it.

[deadliestviper]

Kon's all I need.

I... I don't think I understand.

[routemistress]

'E is a sweetheart, isn't 'e?

I mean all these lives that never 'appened. I might've gone me whole lifespan without ever finding out 'ow my life would've gone as a Wonderland Duchess with a son, or a crackpot pirate whose idea of a good time were a suicide-bomb prison break and who showed affection by aimin' for the less vital spots when she shot someone. I loved bein' those people.

[She swigs down the rest of her glass, refills it thoughtfully and continues, more quietly.]

I even got some good memories out of Bianca, and that's not a thing I ever thought could 'appen. She's haunted me for years, wondering 'ow I could've gone that way. Now I've got the memories of it all in me 'ead. She's not a fun person to remember being - mostly. But I learned something precious.

[deadliestviper]

He is. [And she gives a small, warm smile for the first time in the conversation.] He's a good boy.

There are feelings and memories and thoughts that shouldn't be had. [She holds out her own glass to be refreshed, and gulps down a significant amount of it.] ...Not everyone gets to learn something.

[routemistress]

[Iris is a little appalled at the idea of experiences that shouldn't be had, and it shows; but she loves Bea, and she stops and looks at her face thoughtfully before she speaks.]

That one 'urt, eh? I'm sorry, love.

[deadliestviper]

[Her face doesn't change, and her eyes don't even flicker as she looks back at Iris over the glass. Pain isn't to be shown, not to be dwelt on, and she's eager to move past it – but she doesn't deny it.]

It's like waking up in a panic and you can't sleep from the sheer horror of your dream no matter how you try to forget it. The dream wins, your reality loses, and the whole day you're vaguely disturbed by its memory.

I wish I'd slept through this one.